


Distracted and Silent

by Hinata Plusle (Hinata_Plusle)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Surströmmiakki 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8826451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinata_Plusle/pseuds/Hinata%20Plusle
Summary: There was nothing obviously bothering Bengt. Except, of course, the fact that he for some reason couldn't focus.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to indulge myself in some fluff.  
> I'm sorry.  
> Prompt was "mistake", with flower(s) as an optional side-prompt.
> 
> Bengt - Sweden  
> Tapio - Finland

Bengt, Tapio and their dog sat in comfortable silence on the sofa. Flower-egg actually had dozed off on the shorter man’s lap, while he read a book on something that Bengt couldn’t quite figure out with his rough Finnish, but wouldn’t bother asking for now – he knew his husband hated being interrupted, and with reason (it wasn’t like he liked it either). It seemed interesting, since he’d read almost a third of the book with no breaks at all and showed no signs of need for one.

Bengt, on the other hand, couldn’t bring himself to concentrate on the in-progress embroidered flower he was trying to complete, and, in all honesty, it was annoying him. It couldn’t be that difficult to finish it! It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to do it by heart, hadn’t done that several times before, that same exact pattern, that same exact fabric. Hell, he probably had enough skill to do it with closed eyes! The worst of it was that he couldn’t even pinpoint a reason to be like this. It wasn’t like he was expecting or dreading anything, or found discomfort in anything. Quite the contrary, he enjoyed quiet evenings with his beloved, was wearing comfortable clothes, sitting on a comfortable sofa, using a comfortable pillow to support his arms, and the temperature was perfect.

Maybe he just wasn’t in the mood to do it today. He’d gotten to that conclusion over an hour ago, in all honesty. However, somehow the idea of leaving it unfinished sounded like failing a mission, and he decided he should at least finish that one flower he was working on at the moment.

Under any other circumstances, he’d finish that flower in 15 minutes, maybe less. Yet here he was. Bengt was starting to lose hope that he’d really finish it for today, but… Tapio seemed so enthralled by the book, how could he move and break the peaceful monotony? He knew he’d wake up Flower-egg, that Tapio would stop mid-sentence to look at where he was going, perhaps ask what was going on, that it would _ruin_ Tapio’s concentration and the calm atmosphere.

Well, his worries were cut short by giggles.

By the time Bengt looked up, the giggles had already developed to laughter, as he expected. Yet he never really knew what to expect from his lovely husband’s laughs. For him, they never were the same, pretty much nothing was the same twice when it came to Tapio. When he laughed (or danced or smiled or worked), there was always something new, something different from the last time, something he perhaps just didn’t realize before. And of course this time was no exception. Bengt looked at his husband’s giggling form, hiding his mouth instinctively with his dominant hand, a familiar ring on his finger glistening _just perfectly_. Bengt forgot the frustrated attempt at embroidering, suddenly finding whatever Tapio had found funny enough to break the silence both of them cherished so much.

“What happened?”

It took Tapio a few seconds to control his laughter. He was still somewhat giggling when he finally said, pointing to the tools in Bengt’s hands:

“It’s just that… That… Sweetie, it’s pretty clear you’re paying zero attention to your flowers.”

Only then did Bengt actually pay attention to his work. He didn’t seem to be doing that badly. What could be so funny about it? He lifted the fabric to take a better look at it.

He found it a bit too hard to do so.

Then realized he’d sewn the pillow to the fabric.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like half an hour? I'm so terrible with deadlines.  
> Barely proofread it, as you can probably realize by now.


End file.
